


Will he make it through the night?

by ryuukko



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Angst, Cancer, House - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, OOC House, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Spoilers, The C word, WilSon - Freeform, emotional episode, episode based
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-07-19 23:06:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7381186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryuukko/pseuds/ryuukko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on the episode "The 'C' word" . House takes care of Wilson, because he knows it's the only thing he has left in this world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Will he make it through the night?

"-should've spent my life more like you! Manipulative, self-centered , Narcissistic ass! -"

 

He's just taking his anger out. It's nothing, Greg figures. Why would words cut deep now? Twenty years of poisonous retorts never stung. 

"-brought misery to everything and everyone in his life!"

Okay, that did sting a little. 'Close your mouth house, quit gaping like an idiot.' House reminded himself, licking his lips. "You still have cancer..."

"Yeah!" Wilson panted, rearing up for a retort. "-At least I would have felt like I deserved it!"

Silence. House looked at his shoes and then at Wilson. Extrodinatly pale complexion, skin on his lips peeled, twitchy hands, and a haunting wheeze with every inhale. Death slowly drawing his energy from his once strong body. Just looking at him hurt. House said he was only sticking around because his friend had been a thorn in his side, but the truth was that Greg knew him. James rarely receded into dark places, wonders in and lets himself be swallowed up by the situation. The oncologist, this time, was sloppy. Desperation hung around like a 'kick me' sign on Wilson's bucket. A nauseating, ice cold fear overtook his body and urged Greg to glue himself to his friend's side.   
Even his precious pain medication went straight to Wilson. House may have spent years fighting anyone who tried to revoke them from him, screaming at them and reminding them all of how much pain he was in. That didn't matter now. The morphine was all used up and James was top priority. He couldn't let him suffer if he could do something about it. Leaving him for another prescription was not an option, and if he called one of his co-workers, they would butt in. The world famous diagnostion was all alone and running out of ideas

When Wilson was asleep, House wondered into another room to rub his face for a good five minutes. Fighting back tears that advanced with every question beginning with "why" forcing their way to the forefront. The stone pillar was what he promised to deliver, that's what Wilson was going to get. Not some overly concerned, uncharacteristically unfamiliar care and gentleness that would probably give him a heart attack. Either way this was his last hoorah. Wilson was on his way out the door and up the steps to heaven. House didn't believe in God but if there was something better waiting out there, James deserved it. After all of the jabs and pushing around, House took a second to look at the damage that had been done. Why had he not noticed the Thymoma before?   
Strands of hair were plastered to Wilson's sweaty forehead. A sharp inhale indicated to House that his friend was about to wake. Mental perpetration for the horrors that he'd have to witness would never come. In the back of his mind, he knew the end was coming. He would have to say goodbye and he was not ready. 

Groans, whimpers, coughs, it was pathetic what the oncologist was reduced to. Hell, he couldn't even make it to the bathroom on his own. 

'Pain and misery to all those around you!'

Those words were nothing new to him, but they seared on his mind. 'Yeah, tell that to my leg and my pills you keep hurling up.' Without his pain tolerance, the diagnostician would be going insane from the level of pain he was experiencing. Usually, he would be thankful knowing that he wouldn't have to be off his medication for very much longer. However, he didn't have an endgame in sight. He was going to save Wilson. There was no puzzle to crack here, only his own heart. The stakes were high and House would never tell his old friend of his intentions. Wilson was not accustomed to the agony and sorry on a physical medium, so House could understand why he was practically suicidal. 

"If you die, I'm alone..." He said to himself softly; Just before Wilson regained full consciencness. House wasn't going to guilt this man into even more misery. Not now. It could break the tiny thread of trust still left that held them together. Wilson would push him away to his dying breath.

He helped him turn over to puke into the bucket. Suddenly the oncologist's BP spiked, blood count was down to 500. Time to go to the hospit-

"No.."

"I don't have the equipment or for the meds to handle this."

"No." Wilson wheezes. "Win or lose...win or lose! That was the deal."

"That was the deal, when there was an or!" House started to loose his grip on his emotions. "You can't win this."

Brown eyebrows scrunched together in destress. "No...no... I'd rather die here.." Voice cracked. "Not in an ambulance! Not in the hospita...ha.."

 

House's heart began to fill with life only to hurt again. Wilson broke down infront of him. Begging him not to deliver him to the place he feared the most. The oncologist didn't want to whither away in front of a crowd of people. Greg couldn't say that he'd want to go that way, he hated it when people sugar coated thing he already knew. However, seeing the tables turned for once wasn't pleasant. This was why he avoided caring, or he tried to anyway. He couldn't emotionally support another, that's not what he did, right? Gregory House was only fighting for himself. 'Everybody lies' did not exclude him.   
Blue eyes searched for an escape route. A way he could convince him to get help. There was none. 

"You can't do that to me!" Wilson gasps and grabs house's black tee feebly. "House. Please promise me that you want to that's me!"

House slips a hand behind Wilson's greasy scalp once more. Things were slipping too fast, Wilson's panic made him feel like the world shattered beneath him. 

"Promise me!"

With reluctance, Greg nodded and promised. He held onto him for a moment longer before checking the machines again. James was declining fast. There was no way he could do anything for him now.

So he sat and watched. At about when ever the hell the sun rose o clock, Wilson's chubby fingers twitched.   
Throughout the Morning, they exchange weak, yet witty banter. 

Hangover, no meds, overall everything sucked. But his best friend was still alive.   
Was he really just that? Nearly twenty years and an expiration date brought such an apifany to light. He cared deeply for the other man and would travel to the ends of the earth for him. After Wilson stepped out of the shower, House felt his chest swell with some emotion that made him choke up. At the same time, his chest felt tight. Of course, his posture, expression and movement revealed none of this. This raw emotion of love. Of concern for what was almost lost. That's when he decided that he would never leave Wilson's side.


End file.
